


Old New Borrowed Blue

by butterflymind



Category: Brittas Empire
Genre: Disasters, M/M, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflymind/pseuds/butterflymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To be honest, if one chooses gets married in Whitbury New Town, within a five mile radius of Mr Brittas, there's no point being surprised by anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old New Borrowed Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lakester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakester/gifts).



> This story requires the standard british sitcom suspension of disbelief. I hope it holds up to it.

In an old country church, amongst the dark wood and the sounds of the organ, a shaft of sunlight from the glorious summer's day outside was casting a pool of light on the ancient flagstones. Gavin stood in the sunbeam, shifting his weight from foot to foot expectantly. He began his slow walk up the aisle, holding a bouquet to his chest like a blushing bride. His friends and family turned to look at him as he passed, his mother smiling at him, dabbing at the corner of her eye. His father looked stern, but a hint of a proud smile was curling the edge of his lip. He gave them a small wave as he passed, and then saw his friends, the staff from the leisure centre, filling the front pews. Linda had a camera and was snapping pictures of him as he passed, Carol was beaming at him, one arm around Ben's shoulders, and Colin gave him a wave with his unbandaged hand. Even Laura was there, nodding approvingly. He smiled at all of them, then turned his eyes to the front of the church. He could see him there, facing the altar, his back straightening as he felt Gavin approach, stretching out the broad line of his shoulders under his morning suit. He felt a smile of infectious joy lighting his own face as he neared the altar, felt a tremendous sense of calm as he took his place next to him. This was certainty, this is what he had wanted since the first time he had seen him, all those years ago. The vicar lifted his hands in greeting and Gavin turned to his husband to be. 

"Ah, Gavin, just in time." Said Gordon Brittas, holding out his hand to take Gavin's.

Gavin screamed and bolted upright.

  


"Oh for God's sake, not again." Tim muttered sleepily. He reached up a hand and none too gently pulled Gavin back down to the bed. "What was it this time?"

"The wedding again." Gavin replied, taking a few deep, shaky breaths.

"I'd never have agreed if I knew it was going to have this effect on you." Tim muttered, rolling over. "Go back to sleep, before I decide you'd be better off marrying Mr Brittas too."

"I don't want to marry him Timmy." Gavin said, a little petulantly. 

"Tell your subconscious." Tim replied, but he rolled back over, and draped a conciliatory arm around Gavin's waist. "Two days and it will all be done. And we'll be on honeymoon until the dust settles."

"What dust?" Gavin sounded panicked. "Who said anything about dust needing to settle?" 

"Love," Tim said, sitting up a bit so he could look Gavin in the eye. "If we get married in Whitbury New Town, within a five mile radius of Mr Brittas, and dust is all we have to settle afterwards, I'll be a happy man." 

  


*

  


When Laura arrived, there was a small group of customers milling around the centre doors. She approached carefully, an instinct apparently still firmly intact even after a few years away, and attempted to judge the anger level of the crowd from a safe distance. 

"Oi! Do you work here?" A man shouted at her. Apparently she hadn't been subtle enough.

"No." Laura replied, feeling a tremendous sense of relief. 

"Has he got your kid too then?" He asked. Laura frowned.

"Has he got my… " she repeated, then ground to a halt as the meaning became hideously obvious.

"Are your children in there?" She asked the crowd at large. Most rumbled an affirmative response of some sort, apart from one woman who unexpectedly burst into tears. 

"He won't let them out." She sniffed.

"Who won't?" Laura didn't really know why she was bothering to ask.

"Brittas." The angry man replied. "He found a verruca plaster on the changing room floor after the Junior Dolphins club and now he won't let any of them go until he finds ‘patient zero’." 

"Well I used to work here, perhaps I can find someone to talk to." Laura said, her better nature winning out over her common sense. It was just like old times. The crowd parted to let her through, and she banged on the leisure centre doors. After a moment Mr Brittas approached the other side, already talking.

"Look, I've already told you, this is a contaminated area. And until we find the primary source for the contagion I'm afraid I can't let any of you… " He stopped. "Laura!" He said in surprise.

"Hello Mr Brittas." She replied, smiling. She was pleased to see him, which in the current circumstances was probably a worrying development. "Can I come in?"

"Afraid not Laura, we have an on-going infection control situation." Brittas shook his head to accentuate his point. "I'm afraid I can't let anyone into or out of the building until the matter has been resolved."

"I'll come back later then." Laura stepped back from the door, and the crowd closed around her.

"I thought you said you could do something." The angry man said. Laura thought for a moment.

"Do any of you have a phone?" She asked eventually. Someone held one aloft and it was passed around the crowd until it reached her. She quickly dialled.

"Julie? It's Laura."

"Laura!" Julie's voice came back, crackling down the phone line. "How are you? Are you calling from America?"

"No, just outside actually." Laura looked up and waved when she saw Julie appear at one of the upper floor windows. "There's a crowd of people with me who would like to collect their children with me, but Mr Brittas seems to have locked the front doors." In the distance, Laura could see Julie shrug.

"He's on one of his hygiene kicks again, I can't stop him." She replied. Laura thought for a moment.

"I think they're all quite angry with him." She confided, "probably a bit violent." 

"I'll let you in through the back door to the badminton courts." She replied. "Bye."

"Bye." Laura echoed to the empty line. She turned to face the crowd, who did indeed look more than mildly murderous.

"This way Ladies and Gentlemen." She said.

  


*

  


"So how are you? Julie asked as the crowd cleared the badminton court and headed towards the pool. Laura half turned her head, listening vaguely for the sounds of a lynching.

"Good." She smiled at Julie. "Busy. Between work and Michael and Barney I never seem to get any time to myself."

"You don't miss it here then." Julie said. Laura gave her a look, just as a crash sounded from down the corridor, followed by the unmistakeable squawk that meant someone had lifted Mr Brittas by the lapels.

"Not really, no." There was a pause, then the sound of something passing through the glass leisure centre doors. A chair from reception would have been Laura's first guess. "How are you?" She asked in return.

"Oh same old, same old." Julie replied, leading the way back to the staff rest room. "Would you like a coffee?" 

"Please." Laura sank into one of the chairs as Julie headed off towards the coffee machine. There were a few seconds of blissful silence, and then the door opened.

"Laura!" Colin was trailing a bundle of cloth behind him as he came through the door, probably (but not definitely) the source of the slightly distressing smell. 

"Hello Colin." She said, smiling. "What's that?"

"Oh this is for the compost heap, I found it in one of those disused lockers on the fourth floor." He gave it a look that could almost be described as fond. "It's probably been there for years."

"Very possibly." Laura said, edging away. 

"It's part of Mr Brittas' new ‘green initiative’" Colin manoeuvred the cloth into a corner. "Waste not want not y'see, that's his motto." He grinned at her, "you should see the new boiler I put in last week, it's solar powered."

"Solar powered." Laura repeated slowly. "In Whitbury?"

"You wouldn't think you could, would you." Colin said proudly. "But I replaced one of the skylights on the roof with a giant magnifying lens, and then put a sun-tube in all the way down to the boiler. Works a treat." His smile faltered a little, "of course, Mr Brittas was a bit cross about the hole I had to make in number two squash court to get the tube in, but it has to go direct you see, or else… " Julie chose this moment to return with the coffee. 

"Oh stop going on about your bloody sun-tube." She said to Colin and dropped into the seat next to Laura. "I want to hear about America. Is it nothing but beaches and muscly men?"

"Not in Chicago, no." Laura replied. "It's more freezing snow and men in suits."

"That's disappointing." Julie said. The door burst open.

"Right, that seems to be the last of them off the premises." Mr Brittas said as he walked in. He did a double take when he saw Laura sitting at the table. 

"Laura! Did you come in through the hole that vandal put in my front door?"

"If you like." Laura replied smiling into her coffee. "How are you Mr Brittas?"

"At the moment I'm very perturbed Laura. A child has just left the premises with an untreated infection, and several of the others are probably now harbouring it as well." He turned to Julie.

"We'll have to cancel Junior Dolphins until further notice I'm afraid Julie, could you draft a letter to the parents?" 

"Yeah alright." Julie said, returning to her cup.

"We will have to tell them that there will be no more swimming until the source of the infection comes forward."

"Whatever you say." Julie agreed absentmindedly. "So, are you here for the wedding?"

"Yes. Well, and Barney hadn't seen his Uncle Chris since he was a baby. He lives in Whitbury so he's staying with him for a couple of days. It just seemed like a good opportunity."

"It's a shame when they don't see their family, isn't it." Julie agreed nodding. "Gordon spends every Tuesday round at my mum's".

"That's nice." 

"Well it used to be Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Wednesdays, and sometimes Friday, but she said she wanted paying as a child minder." Julie sniffed. "I didn't know you had relatives in Whitbury?"

"Oh yes, Chris has been here a while now. He works at the civic centre."

"Single?"

"Well yes, I think so."

"Only I don't have a date for the wedding, so if he's y'know, worth a look then… "

"Yes, thank you Julie." Mr Brittas said. "So, here for young Gavin's wedding." He continued to Laura. 

"Yes. Well, we've known them for such a long time, I didn't want to miss it."

"Ah, so you know the bride-to-be." Laura shot Julie a look.

"Er… yes." She said slowly. 

"Well I'm glad somebody does," said Mr Brittas, folding his arms across his chest. "He hasn't seen fit to introduce her to me I notice." He smiled indulgently "but love has to have its little secrets I suppose."

‘He still doesn't know?’ Laura mouthed at Julie. She shrugged. 

"I'm a bit surprised they didn't want to have it here." Mr Brittas said. Laura snapped her attention back to him.

"Have what here?" She asked.

"The wedding. I offered Gavin a lovely spread, reception in the sports hall, choice of a squash court or the swimming pool for the ceremony. And at a very reasonable rate too."

"I even said they could use the vegetable garden for the photos." Colin put in from across the table. "But he didn't seem keen." He got up and retrieved his bundle of cloth. "Speaking of, I better be getting this down to the compost heap."

"Yeah, before it rots any more." Julie said as he left.

"So where are they having the wedding?" Laura asked.

"The civic centre." Mr Brittas replied. "Honestly, can you imagine anywhere less romantic than that?"

"It's quite nice." Julie said. "They've got a little room with an aisle and everything. Besides, it was all done in a bit of a hurry."

"Ah." Mr Brittas nodded. "I can understand that. The second my Helen said yes, I wanted to take her to the church straight away."

"Before the drugs wore off." Julie muttered to Laura.

"They're having the reception in the function room at the Dog and Duck." Mr Brittas continued, happily oblivious. "I mean really, when we've got a whole gym to spare."

"Yes, but the caterers won't come here any more, will they." Julie said. "Not since you demanded all their staff be sent to Porton Down for testing."

"That was a perfectly reasonable health concern Julie. A lot of people were ill that day."

"Yes, but it would have been quicker to have just sent Colin. They'd probably have kept him." Julie paused. "That reminds me, I said I'd call the florist for Gavin."

"Why do you have to call them?" Mr Brittas asked.

"They're being difficult, need someone to have a quick word." Julie flashed a grin at Laura. "I handle most of Gavin's arguing these days." She rummaged around in her pocket and eventually came up with the card. "Thistle do nicely," she rolled her eyes "I never trust anyone who names their business with a pun." Mr Brittas leaned over and took the card out of her hands. 

"Why is he using this bunch of charlatans?" He asked, crumpling the card into his own pocket. "Don't worry about it Julie, I'll call my friend Ben at the garden centre. He'll sort everything out."

"I don't think that's a very good idea Mr Brittas." Laura and Julie interjected, almost simultaneously. 

"Nonsense, Gavin will be grateful for the time and money I've saved him." He clapped his hands to his knees and stood up. "Can't stand around here chatting all day, I have a leisure centre to run." He offered Laura a smile. "Would you like to come up for a coffee?" Laura briefly glanced down to the cup she was holding, clearly visible and still half full.

"Maybe later." She smiled.

"Look forward to it. Ladies." He turned and left, snapping the door shut behind him.

"Tim's going to kill me." Julie said. "They'll both be here in a bit."

"They're not working the day before their wedding?" Laura asked. 

"Only way they could get a two weeks holiday at the same time." Julie replied, "otherwise the interlocking spokes of the managerial and staff rotas could no longer be aligned. Apparently." She scowled. "He'll probably manage to get four fence panels and a bag of builders sand instead of flowers."

"Oh he can't go that wrong, surely." Laura said. Julie looked at her pityingly.

"Have you really been gone that long?" 

  


*

  


_Hi Ben, it's Gordon Brittas here._

_That's right, we had to rebuild the fence after Mr Birling next door drove through it on his ride on lawnmower._

_Well no one really knows, I was just informing him about the new EU regulation lengths of grass on playing fields and how he might find it easier if he adopted the same policy. Suddenly he burst through the fence and drove straight towards me._

_Oh Helen's fine; it's good of you to remember her. Mind you, I suppose there was a time she was always popping down there. Always seemed to need another little thing from you, didn't she._

_Now Ben, a colleague of mine has found himself in a bit of difficulty with his wedding florist. They've let him down rather badly I'm afraid. I was wondering if you might be able to step into the breach as it were._

_Well I know you're not technically a florist, but I would consider it a personal favour. And there is that business over those four bags of non-regulation sand I bought last winter._

_That's very kind of you. The wedding is tomorrow aftern…_

_Why would I be joking?_

_At the civic centre. If you could be there at about 11 so I can inspect the arrangements?_

_Oh white roses, delphiniums, that sort of thing._

_Well no, I haven't actually met the bride._

_I didn't find it understandable._

_If you could just deliver the flowers tomorrow?_

_Excellent. See you tomorrow then. Bye._

  


_*_

  


The phone rang half way to the leisure centre. Gavin automatically reached for it, but Tim snatched it away from him.

"Not while you're driving" he hissed, pressing the answer button.

"Hi, no it's Tim." There was a momentary pause. Then Tim yelled into the phone. "What? But it's tomorrow!" He let out a sharp breath. "Well yes I understand that but couldn't you just… " He paused again. "Environmental health you say. Well yes, of course I'll be expecting a full refund. You'll be lucky if we don't see you in the small claims court!" He jammed his finger onto the end call button, and slammed the phone onto the dashboard.

"What is it?" Gavin asked, studiously keeping his eyes on the road. Tim let out a long sigh, flexing his hands against his sides in an effort to calm down.

"That was the bakery. They've been shut down due to a chronic mouse infestation." Gavin raised his eyebrows.

"And our cake is?"

"Probably home to Mickey's extended family by now." Tim wailed. "No flowers, no cake. What's next? Suits chewed by wild dogs on their way to the tailors? Registrar comes down with Lassa fever? Civic centre is destroyed in freak meteor shower?" He looked at Gavin. "You don't think it's a sign do you? Telling us this is a bad idea?" Gavin risked taking his hand off the steering wheel to clutch at Tim's.

"I think it's just a sign we're trying to get married in Whitbury." He replied. "So we don't have a cake, or flowers. Does it really matter? Isn't the most important thing that we're there, showing everyone how much we love each other?" Tim gave him a long look.

"Nice try. But we're in it for the presents and you know it."

"There'll still be presents." Gavin consoled him. He pulled into the car park and they climbed out of the car.

"But the guests will be expecting cake, it's sort of the signature dish." Tim whined as they entered. Carol looked up from the reception desk. She had a plastic tugboat and a small rubber duck in her hands. 

"Just giving the twins a bath." She said by way of greeting, and then looked between them. "Is something wrong?"

"Our wedding cake has been cancelled by mice." Tim said glumly.

"I'm sorry?" 

"The bakery was closed due to a rodent infestation." Gavin explained, running a soothing hand down Tim's back and using it to surreptitiously prod him towards the changing rooms.

"You don't have a cake? That's terrible!" Carol exclaimed. Tim, sensing an ally, looked up.

"It is." He moved over to the reception desk. "And there's nothing we can do about it now, it's too late to find another bakery."

Carol quickly cut across Gavin's "We haven't tried… "

"Oh of course. But I suppose," She paused. 

"What?" Tim asked eagerly.

"I suppose I could knock up a little something." She said almost meekly. "I did win the WI regional junior baking cup when I was at school."

"Did you?" 

"Yes, although it must be said that the rest of the Brownies were a little put off from the competition. It was Brown Owl you see, she had very funny ideas of what constituted a good cake filling." She leaned forward conspiratorially "she made chocolate brownies for us and three of the girls spent the rest of the afternoon staring at their hands."

"Did they." Gavin said, eyebrows raised.

"Still, I could do you something. Not fruit cake you understand? But maybe some nice sponge?" She reached under the desk and pulled out a piece of paper and one of Ben's crayons. "I was thinking maybe a raspberry victoria sponge base" she quickly sketched the cake on the paper, with a label, "and then maybe a Genoese sponge on the top, with vanilla?" She completed her drawing of a two-tiered cake by adding little sugar figures at the top.

"That's very kind Carol, but are you sure you'll have time?" Gavin asked eying the drawing.

"Oh I can do it while I'm working." Carol said with a smile.

"While you're working? Won't you need a kitchen?" He asked.

"Not a problem Gavin" Carol said proudly, gesturing them around the desk. She rolled back her chair and revealed an integrated oven, just underneath the desk.

"Of course." Tim said. "Silly of us." He pushed Gavin towards the door. "Come on. The last thing we need today is one of Brittas' ‘why a late start ruins everyone's day’ lectures." He smiled over his shoulder. "Thanks Carol."

  


Just as Carol was reaching into the refrigerator for the eggs, Colin came wandering by the reception desk. He had a length of suspiciously brown hose in his hands.

"Hello Carol. Oh, what's this?" He asked, picking up the piece of paper with Carol's cake sketch on it. 

"Oh that's for the wedding. Tim and Gavin's bakery have let them down, so we were just designing an alternative."

"That's grand that." Colin squinted at the paper. "And they need it for tomorrow?"

"Yes, so I'm a bit busy… " Carol said, half under the desk while she rooted around for the white flour.

"Well if you're busy I'm sure I can manage it." Colin said, picking up the paper and folding it into his pocket. "I'll get on it as soon as I've got the pool drains unblocked." He left the desk whistling, just as Carol emerged with the flour in hand. 

"No, I said _so_ I'm a bit busy..." But he was gone.

  


_*_

  


_Hi Ben, Gordon Brittas again._

_That's great. I just had a few more thoughts on the flower situation._

_Oh nothing much, but I was thinking maybe we could do something with a few lilies?_

_Well I don't think we should be discriminatory just because they have a certain reputation._

_Surely there must be some that flower in the winter?_

_Well, I'll leave that with you then. Bye._

  


_*_

  


Laura decided that she couldn't put the visit to Mr Brittas off any longer. Tim and Gavin had at least seemed pleased to see her, although Tim had been vibrating like a fine violin string and Gavin was clearly alternating between dealing with Tim's terror and his own. To be honest, she hadn't exactly improved things when she had accidently broken the news of Mr Brittas' handling of the flowers. Apparently Julie hadn't dropped that bombshell. 

"Oh God." Tim said, and left to shower with the air of a condemned man. Gavin sat down next to her and put his head in his hands. She rubbed her hand soothingly on his arm, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia.

"Gavin?" She asked when she felt he had recovered enough and Tim was definitely out of earshot. "Who does Mr Brittas think you're marrying?" Gavin sighed, and raised his eyes to look at her.

"I haven't been that specific." He said evasively.

"But he thinks you're marrying a woman." Laura pressed.

"Yes, well, he just sort of assumed and I didn't correct him at the time and now… " he trailed off miserably.

"Didn't he wonder why Tim wanted two weeks holiday after the wedding?" Gavin shrugged. 

"I told him he was coming with us on the honeymoon."

"And he didn't find that odd?"

"No." Gavin wrinkled his nose as if it had only just occurred to him that Mr Brittas should have perhaps questioned this state of affairs. "He said it would be like his honeymoon, his best friend went with them too."

"I bet he did." Laura muttered. She returned to the problem at hand.

"You're going to have to tell him." She said. Gavin shrugged miserably. "Or else he's going to turn up at the ceremony without knowing what's going on and you know what he'll do."

"I've been trying to tell him. I've been trying to tell him for months. But he never listens."

"He's Mr Brittas." 

"I know." He said miserably. Laura relented.

"Do you want me to try?" She asked. Gavin raised his eyes to hers with a glimmer of hope in them.

"Would you?" He asked, pathetically grateful. 

"Well your wedding present is stuck at customs, so for now this will have to do instead."

"Thank you" Gavin said sincerely. He stood up. "I better get to work." He looked back at her "but Laura… "  
"Yes?" She prompted.

"Thank you." He said as he left.

  


Laura rose to her feet, deciding that now she really did have to go up to the office, when Helen walked into the rest room.

"Laura!" She exclaimed, and enveloped her in a hug. 

"Hello Helen." Laura said, slightly winded by the effusiveness of the greeting. Helen was smiling at her, slightly manically.

"New pills?" She asked.

"No, I've been on them a while." Helen said, sitting down. "But they're rather good" she grinned. 

"How are you? How are the children?"

"Oh they're all fine." She looked momentarily worried "or at least they were fine yesterday, I'm not sure I've seen them today."

"That's… good." 

"And how are you? How's the baby?"

"Not so much of a baby any more, but he's fine. We're all fine." Helen nodded and smiled at her a little vaguely. "I was just off to see Mr Brittas actually."

"Whatever for?" Asked Helen, looking a little startled.

"I promised Gavin I'd talk to him about the wedding. And he's in charge of the flowers, so somebody had better find out what he's doing."

"Oh good Lord." Helen said, "How on earth did he end up in charge of the flowers?"

"The usual way." Laura sighed. "The florist fell through apparently, and Mr Brittas has taken it upon himself to organise replacements."

Gordon? Wherever from?" Helen sighed. "He's banned from both florists in the high street." 

"Really? What did he do?"

"Oh nothing much." Helen was picking at a loose thread on her jumper. "It was more of a group decision amongst all the shops on the parade to be honest. They all banned him and the next year they got their council rates cut."

"Oh." Laura said, non-plussed. "Well he said something about a garden centre."

"Green bushes." Helen nodded. "I hope he doesn't upset them too much, we've already been barred from the other garden centre."

"Do I want to ask?"

"It involved a bag of 10 millimetre gravel and a ruler." Helen said shaking her head. "So probably not."

"Oh, right." Laura stood. "Well I better go and see if I can stop him before he's banned from the last shop in Whitbury then." She said. 

"I'm so glad you're back Laura." Laura headed for the door but paused just before she went through it.

"Mrs Brittas, did Mr Brittas' best friend really come with you on your honeymoon?"

"Oh yes, _Michael."_ Helen smiled fondly at the memory, and went back to removing the fluff from her jumper sleeve.

  


*

  


_Hi Ben, guess what, me again!_

_Yes, well I just had another little thought. It might be nice if all the guests had a little something too, just a little poesy they could give to the happy couple. Maybe they could be co-ordinated into a larger arrangement when they're all gathered together?_

_I don't know, forty or so I would imagine._

_Well make it fifty and then we can return the extras for a refund if we don't use them._

  


_*_

  


"Goodness Colin, that's… big." Linda said, eying the cake on the table. The table itself was bending slightly in the middle.

"Do you like it Linda?" Colin came around the side of the lockers to stand next to her. "All my own work."

"Is it for the wedding?"

"Yes, the bakery let them down, so I've stepped into the breach as it were." Linda leaned forward and cautiously prodded the cake with one finger. It was curiously unyielding.

"Very firm, my old Granny's fruit cake recipe." Colin said proudly. "Very dense."

"I'll say. I'm surprised it's all stayed together."

"That'll be the cement." Colin leaned forward and tapped the cake sharply. Nothing moved. "Gives it structural stability."

"Cement?" Linda asked alarmed.

"Just on the supports. Not in the actual cake." Colin promised.

"Do you think they'll like it?"

"I think they'll be speechless." Linda replied. She left the room and went to find Carol at reception.

"Have you seen what Colin's done?" She asked breathlessly. Carol looked up from her mixing bowl.

"Colin?" She asked, frowning.

"He's made the most enormous cake for the wedding. It's very… sturdy." To her surprise Carol's face fell and her lower lip wobbled.

"But I'm making the cake for the wedding."

"Are you?" Linda leaned over the desk and saw the array of mixing bowls on the other side. A tiny sugar Tim and Gavin were drying on a plinth, next to a thin paintbrush.

"Yes, Tim asked me specially."

"Well he wouldn't have asked Colin as well." Linda said. She thought for a moment. "In fact, he wouldn't have asked Colin at all."

"Wouldn't have asked Colin what?" Tim asked, appearing at her side. 

"To make your wedding cake."

"Oh God no, it'd probably be held together with superglue." He grinned.

"Cement actually." Linda said. Tim laughed, then turned to look at her.

"You're not serious." Linda merely nodded, and gestured to the rest room door. Tim opened the door a crack, looked through it, and then back, his face pale.

"Bloody hell." He said.

"So you didn't ask Colin to make the cake then?" Carol asked, her expression lightning. 

"Of course not, what on earth would I do a thing like that for?"

"Then why did he do it?" Linda asked. The three of them looked at each other for a moment, then Carol dropped her eyes.

"Oh." She said. 

"What, Carol." Tim almost growled at her.

"Well Colin was here earlier you see, and he saw the plans for the cake and asked what it was for so I told him. And then I said that I was making it and so I was a bit busy, and he said something else but I couldn't hear him because I had my head in a cupboard looking for the flour. And he must have thought I meant I was too busy to do the cake. But by the time I came out he was gone and so was the cake drawing."

"Great. So now we have two cakes." Tim threw his hands up in the air. "This whole thing is cursed, I'm telling you." He stormed off only to bump into Colin.

"Oh Tim, I have a surprise for you." He said brightly. He strode off towards the rest room, tugging Tim in his wake.

"Oh good, I wonder what it could possibly be." Tim muttered to Linda as he passed.

  


_*_

  


_Hi Ben, Gordon Brittas here._

_Just wanted to check that you are au fait with the pollen allergy regulations with regards to the flowers for the wedding?_

_No, the new EU regulations, published last year._

_Did you not? Well luckily I have the document right here. Would you like me to fax it to you?_

_About seventy pages._

_I'm afraid I can't agree with you there. These regulations are very important for the health and safety of everybody. Imagine if a small child, with severe hayfever that was previously undiagnosed, innocently sniffed one of the floral arrangements? It could be anaphylactic shock before you know it. No, no, I'll get them over to you right away._

_Of course I've read them._

_So I'll be able to check the arrangements for compliance, obviously._

_I'll get my secretary to do it right away. See you tomorrow._

  


_*_

  


Mr Brittas had just put the phone down when Laura entered his office. He held up one finger to her for silence and pushed the intercom button. 

"Julie, could you come into my office please?" There was a thump, but no verbal response. However a moment later Julie did appear through the connecting door, her hair sligphtly damp.

"Be quick, I've got my heated rollers on." She said sharply. "Trying out different hair styles for the wedding." She confided to Laura. Mr Brittas handed her a thick file.

"Fax this to Green Bushes garden centre please. The number's on the top."

"All of it?" Julie asked, staring at the file.

"Yes please Julie, and be quick about it, I don't have all day."

"Alright, keep your hair on." Julie took the file and departed. 

"What was that Mr Brittas?" Laura asked curiously.

"Oh Gordon please." He smiled expansively "you don't work for me any more."

"No, I don't." Laura agreed thoughtfully. "The file?"

"Oh just some regulations on the control of allergens in flower displays. I thought I better send them to the garden centre manager, since he didn't seem to get a copy of his own." Laura's heart sank.

"You are being polite to him, aren't you Mr Brit… Gordon? Only you're asking him to do a pretty big job in not a lot of time."

"As I always am Laura." It sank further. "Ben and I get on very well. You should have seen him laugh when I told him my creosote joke last spring."

"Oh good." 

"It's a very good joke. Would you like to hear it? What's brown and stick… "

"No no, it's fine." Laura said quickly. She decided to change the subject as quickly as possible.

"Mr Brit… Gordon." She corrected, wincing inwardly. "I need to talk to you about who Gavin is marrying."

"Oh, met her have you? What is it? Not a good match? I know we might want to help him but he has to make his own choices Laura, we can't run the lives of our friends for them you know."

‘Then why do you spend so long trying to?’ Laura thought, but said nothing.

"No no, nothing like that." She sighed and tried a different tack.

"So you haven't met the person Gavin is marrying?" She asked.

"No. But I'm sure she's a very nice girl."

"I'm not so sure." Laura said.

"Not so sure that she's nice?"

"Not so sure that she's a girl." Mr Brittas blinked at Laura for a moment, looking completely lost.

"You're saying Gavin isn't marrying a girl." He said slowly. Laura breathed out a long sigh.

"Yes."

"Is she much older than him then?"

"No!" Laura didn't work for him any more, which meant she could finally give in to a long-standing temptation. She reached across the desk, grabbed Mr Brittas' tie, and held his face very close to hers.

"I'm saying that Gavin is marrying a boy… I mean a man… I mean Tim. Gavin is marrying Tim Mr Brittas." She let go of his tie and Mr Brittas sat back, totally shocked.

"I said you could call me Gordon." He murmured faintly.

"Fine, Gavin is marrying Tim, Gordon." Mr Brittas waved a hand in a vague way, as if shooing the words away.

"Why?" He asked at last.

"Because they are in love with each other. Because they have been in love with each other for the entire time you have known them. Why else do people get married?"

"Well the tax incentives are very good." His speech still seemed mechanical. Laura was mildly concerned that she might have broken him. Silence fell.

"Well, that explains the beneficiary on his pension plan." Mr Brittas said at last. 

"Among many other things." Laura replied.

"Is it a proper wedding if it's two men?" He asked. Laura exhaled loudly, and took a moment to calm herself before answering.

"Technically, I believe it's a civil partnership ceremony." She said finally. "But they are treating it as a wedding, so we are treating it as a wedding. Is that understood?"

"Yes, yes." Mr Brittas replied. He was slowly coming back to himself.

"So Gavin is gay?"

"Yes, or bisexual, I've never really asked him."

"And Tim is gay?"

"I would assume so."

"Right. Well that will do wonders for our staff diversity figures." He smiled, and Laura grimaced but stayed silent. She'd take what she could get.

  


  


_*_

_Hi Ben, I realise it's after six, but then artistry never sleeps as they say._

_Well, I'm sure someone's said it to me._

_Just a few small things. I've changed my mind about the lilies, could we have some irises instead? Or some lily of the valley? And obviously they'll need to come with the appropriate warnings, as per the allergy regulations._

_Oh did they not? That's fine; I'll just get my secretary to send them again._

  


*

  


It was almost the end of the day before Tim managed to track Gavin down. He finally found him in the boiler room, staring thoughtfully at Colin's latest contraption.

"We couldn't fit one in the flat." He said as he walked up.

"What? No!" Gavin jumped. He turned round to face Tim.

"I was just wondering how we could get so much power just from sunlight." Tim grimaced.

"Because it's July." He said. "Wait to see if you're still thinking that in December." He grabbed Gavin's hand and dragged him away from the boiler. "Listen, we have a problem." Gavin's shoulders slumped.

"Another one?"

"You know how this morning we had no wedding cake?" Gavin nodded. "Well, now we have two."

"Two? How did that happen?"

"It's probably best not to ask. Suffice to say, Colin made one of them."

"Oh God." Gavin replied. Tim nodded.

"Worse than you could ever imagine. He showed it to me earlier."

"We can't serve that at the wedding!"

"I know." Tim was looking around the boiler room thoughtfully. "But I have an idea."

"What sort of an idea?"

"A good one." He pulled Gavin along by his hand. "Come on, I'll need your help to carry it."

  


They met Mr Brittas and Laura on the stairs. Laura gave Gavin an exaggerated wink over the top of his head as they approached.

"Ah, Gavin, Tim. I wanted to say how happy I am for you both… and how pleased I am that two of the centre's most… longstanding… employees have found happiness in this way." He cleared his throat nervously. "I mean, by getting married, or partnered, not by… " he waved a hand vaguely between them. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. I know, it was discussed extensively on my diversity in the workplace course in Birmingham, how two men like yourselves might… you know… get together… in a mutual way… and I'm very happy that we will be sharing in that er, happiness tomorrow." 

"What else did they teach you on the course?" Tim asked, but Gavin kicked him sharply in the ankle.

"Thank you Mr Brittas." He said calmly, trying not to let his relief be too obvious. 

"Thank you." He muttered much more sincerely to Laura as they passed by on the stairs.

"I knew you'd get her to tell him for you." Tim said as soon as they were out of earshot.

"How?" Gavin asked defensively.

"Years of experience." He replied. At the look of extreme nervousness on Gavin's face he broke into a smile. "I don't care, I'm just glad he knows." He continued walking. "I'd given up on you telling him."

"I would have told him." 

"Resignation letters don't count." Tim replied. He led them into the rest room and Gavin's eyes widened.

"That's big." He said.

"Yep, and it's as heavy as it looks." Tim took one side of the cake board. "Come on, we need to get it down to the boiler room."

"The boiler room? Why?"

"You'll see." 

  


They spent several minutes working out the best way to divide the cake into pieces, until they chanced upon the hammer and chisel Colin kept with his tool kit.

"Yes, but what are we going to do with it now?" Gavin asked as they divided the last piece. Tim grinned and opened a hatch, shoving the first piece of cake inside.

"Disused pipework for the old boiler." He grinned. "We'll put it down here and by the time they start using it again in the winter, the cake will be long rotted." He regarded the piece in his hand with some suspicion. "Probably."

"As long as we don't have to eat it." Gavin shrugged, and helped him to load the rest of the cake inside. The hatch shut with a satisfying clang. Tim leaned against him for a moment, and Gavin pressed a kiss into his hair.

"Just think, this time tomorrow we'll be bound together for eternity." Gavin said.

"I thought we already were." Tim replied, looking up at him sharply.

"Yes, but tomorrow we'll have a piece of paper that makes it official."

"We already have a piece of paper that makes it official."

"We do?"

"Yes, it's called a mortgage." Tim grinned at him. "Come on, I want to go home and try on the suits again."

"We already know they fit Timmy." 

"Yes, but I want to work out the fastening on the trousers."

"Haven't you done that the last five times you put it on?" Gavin asked with mild exasperation.

"Not my trousers. Yours."

"Oh." Tim grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door. Gavin looked down at their joined hands and smiled.

"There'll be rings on those fingers tomorrow." He said softly.

"Won't be the first ring I've put on your finger." Tim replied. He turned round just in time to catch Gavin flushing red to the roots of his hair.

  


*

  


_Hi Ben, sorry I couldn't get you in person this time. Your answerphone message needs improving by the way; it didn't contain any alternative contact details. How are people supposed to contact you if a garden centre emergency occurs after nine o'clock? As a fellow manager I would have thought you would have understood the value of always being available to your staff and customers. There's a very good course in Swindon on effective management communication that stresses precisely that point. I'll get my secretary to pass the details on to you._

_I've had another little think and perhaps the best thing to do would be for me to co-ordinate some sort of over-arching theme for the whole flower presentation? I've done a few concept sketches, and a small plan, which I'll fax over to you immediately. I thought perhaps an English country garden, trailing roses, forget-me-nots, hollyhocks, that sort of thing. I'll leave the details up to your expertise. And if you could have everything ready by 11 tomorrow, at the civic centre, that would be most helpful._

_I'll see you tomorrow. Well no, I suppose I'll see you today now._

_Thanks Ben, bye._

  


_*_

  


Ben Whittiker, owner and manager of Green Bushes Garden Centre, had not been awake to pick up Mr Brittas' last answerphone message. He would have remained in blissful ignorance of its existence had he only followed his wife's sage advice and gone ex-directory. But by a quarter to one in the morning, Mr Brittas had tracked down his home phone number and rung just to let him know that the message was waiting for him. He may have said something else as well, but he was quite difficult to hear over the crying of the baby. Once Ben had stopped his son screaming and calmed his wife, who reasonably assumed that any phone call coming so late was probably very bad news, he dialled in to his work answerphone and listened to the message. Afterwards, a strange sense of calm seemed to fall over him, and he put his son back to bed with a familiar lullaby. Then he kissed his wife, pulled on his work boots, and left the house.

  


Country garden? He'd give him bloody country gardens.

  


*

  


When Carol left that morning to deliver the cake to the pub, she thought there was something a little different about reception. But she was walking carefully with the cake obscuring her vision, so it wasn't until she returned and passed through the flowered arbour to reach her desk that she realised something was wrong.

  


It was a very nice garden, really. It seemed a pity that it was in reception. Raised beds formed three sides of it, planted with a rich array of forget-me-nots and hollyhocks. There were even a few rose bushes dotted around. Gravel paths wound their way around the beds, and a small stream flowed through the middle of it, dropping down a short waterfall into a goldfish pond. The three goldfish swimming around in the pond seemed perfectly happy, so Carol left them be, and returned to her desk. She picked up the phone and dialled the office.

"Mr Brittas?" 

"Yes Carol, what is it?"

"I think you should come down to reception Mr Brittas."

"What is it Carol? I'm rather busy at the moment."

"It's the garden Mr Brittas."

"What garden?"

"The one in reception Mr Brittas."

"I'll be right down."

  


"Well I can't believe you left it here!" The doors opened with a clatter and Tim and Gavin stepped through, mid-argument. They stopped, falling silent as they took in the scene.

"Had some landscaping done?" Tim asked. "Play area for the children?"

"I'm not really sure." Carol answered honestly. 

"It's quite nice really." Gavin said, running a hand through the trailing flowers on the arbour. 

"Yes, as indoor gardens go." Tim shoved his shoulder, not particularly gently. "Come on, let's get it and go, we do have other things to do today."

"Get what?"

"Gavin left his passport here. Apparently it hadn't occurred to him that we might need it when leaving the country."

"Well Mr Brittas asked to see it, and then I just, sort of, forgot." Tim rolled his eyes. 

"What have I told you about giving personal information to strange men?" He asked.

"But he's Mr Brittas." Gavin protested.

"All the more reason not to give him anything." 

"Gavin, Timothy? What are you doing here?" Mr Brittas asked as he descended the stairs. He took in the horticultural splendour of reception and his eyes widened.

"Carol? What happened here?"

"I don't really know Mr Brittas. It was like this when I got here."

"Surely you must have seen it on the way in?" 

"Been here all night Timothy. Needed to catch up with the Commissioner for Sports Autumn briefing." He tapped the large book under his arm.

"Your life's a non-stop riot, isn't it." Tim muttered.

"Ooh look, there's a card." Said Gavin, who had been fiddling with the one of the rose bushes. He extracted it and read it aloud.

"To Mr Brittas. With compliments from Green Bushes Garden Centre. P.S. I'd get that broken door replaced if I were you." Gavin turned and looked at the sheet of plastic, currently covering the hole in the front doors. "P.P.S. You're barred." He lowered the card and looked at Mr Brittas.

"Well if this is his idea of a joke, I dread to think what he's done with the flowers for your wedding." Mr Brittas said. 

"This is from the people doing the wedding flowers?" Tim's voice had lowered dangerously. He was moving towards Mr Brittas now, apparently unaware of Gavin's restraining hand on his shoulder. "What. Did. You. Say. To. Them."

"I simply asked for flowers, with an country garden theme."

"Well you got the country garden!" Tim exploded. "What else did you say to them?"

"What makes you think there was something else?" Tim opened his arms in an expansive gesture, taking in the whole garden. "Well, I may have offered a few suggestions as to flowers. And of course I ensured they would conform to the latest EU allergy guidelines."

"You sent our florist EU guidelines?" Tim was reaching for Brittas' lapels when Colin burst through the pair, trampling a raised bed in his hurry.

"She's going to blow!" He yelled, heading for the stairs. 

"What is?" Brittas shouted, running after him. Tim, Gavin and Carol followed.

"It's the boiler Mr Brittas, something's blocking the pipes!" Tim and Gavin shared a look.

"Calm down Colin, and tell me what's going on."

"The pressure in the boiler Mr Brittas, something's blocking the outflow pipes and the pressure is too high. It's backing up through the sun-tube. We have to get to the roof and release the lens!" They mounted another flight of stairs, the others following close behind. Colin threw himself at the door to the roof, knocking it open. The lens was bowing, far beyond its usual angle.

"Stay back!" Colin shouted, using his arms to block the doorway. "It's too late." At that moment the lens broke free of it's mooring and was blasted off the roof, the sunlight glinting off its surface as it sailed into the sky. Steam poured from the sun-tube, and for a moment there was perfect silence. Then in the distance came a crash. Followed by the sound of sirens. The steam subsided, and Colin relaxed his arms, allowing them all to step out onto the roof.

"I wonder where it landed." Tim said, peering out over the ledge. Mr Brittas removed a pair of folding binoculars from his breast pocket.

"Always useful to have." He said with a smirk. He peered through them for a moment, and his face slowly dropped. "Ah."

"What is it?" Gavin asked.

"It's a bit difficult to tell at this distance. But I think it might be… the civic centre."

"Oh God." Tim moaned, burying his face in Gavin's shoulder. "Freak meteor shower, I told you."

"Well technically it was a lens… " Colin interjected.

"Shut up Colin." Carol said, and looked vaguely surprised at herself.

"That's it then." Tim said. "It's not happening. Told you it was cursed."

"Well if we could find another venue… " Gavin said desperately. 

"There isn't anywhere else. And what about the registrar? We'd need them to come, we'd need somewhere licensed to perform civil ceremonies, and we've got three hours before guests start arriving at the hole we've just blown in the civic centre." Tim cried, "it's hopeless."

"The leisure centre is licenced for civil ceremonies." Mr Brittas said.

"Oh great, married on the squash courts, or in the swimming pool? Why don't we do it in the sauna and finally conform to stereotype?" Tim was growing slightly hysterical.

"Or you could use the garden downstairs." Carol suggested. Tim and Gavin looked at her, wide eyed, and then at each other. 

"We could." Gavin prompted gently.

"But we'd still need a registrar." 

"I don't know if my first question should be about the garden downstairs, the mess up here, or the distant sound of sirens." Laura said, standing in the doorway. "So I'll settle for the old leisure centre standby. What happened?"

"Mr Brittas and the florist, Colin's invention and the civic centre." Gavin said, waving a hand tiredly at the general chaos. Laura nodded, understanding completely.

"Wedding off then?" She asked gently.

"Unless we can find a registrar who's willing to perform a civil partnership ceremony in a small country garden in a leisure centre reception area." Tim said grumpily.

"I could call Chris." Laura offered. 

"Who's Chris?" Mr Brittas asked suspiciously.

"My brother. Works as a district registrar at the civic centre. Only he won't be there today because he's looking after Barney for me. You heard me telling Julie all of this Mr Brittas."

"You never said he was a registrar." Mr Brittas spluttered.

"Didn't I?" Laura smiled at the look on Gavin's face. "Shall I give him a ring then?"

"This is the best wedding present ever." Gavin told her.

"And the second one I've given you." She grinned at him. "One each. Don't fight about whose is whose."

  


*

  


It was, in the end, a beautiful wedding. Gavin felt that sense of peace, of utter certainty as he stood with his partner at the makeshift altar. And he felt joy, and happiness, and great deal of relief, when it was Tim who turned to him and took his hand.

  


*

  


The reception was wonderfully noisy. Ben and the twins, with Barney in tow, had spent the last twenty minutes hiding under the table, sneaking up small hands to grope around the buffet stealing from the plates. Barney was growing a bit bored with the dark under the tables, but Carol's children seemed content to stay there all day. 

  


Laura sat in a chair; one eye on the tablecloth that she knew concealed her son, and the other on the general gathering. Linda was dancing with Edward, her head resting on his shoulder, eyes closed. She looked as happy as Laura had ever seen her. Julie had three men gathered around her, and was doing a demonstration of something that Laura was fairly sure she didn't want to know the proper name of. She wondered vaguely if Julie knew they were all gay. Helen Brittas was over at the drinks table, emptying glasses of champagne into an empty wine bottle, presumably to take home for later. Colin and Carol were standing chatting when a man next to them made a passing comment on the excellent wedding cake. They turned and thanked him simultaneously, and then stared at each other. Tim and Gavin seemed to be in their own closed world, dancing closely together and apparently oblivious to everything about them, twin rings occasionally glinting in the lights as they moved. It was probably the best place for them to be.

  


And Mr Brittas (who she still could not think of as Gordon) was suddenly sitting down next to her, following her line of sight to the happy couple.

"All the time they've been at the leisure centre?" He asked her. Laura nodded.

"Since day one." She replied. Mr Brittas tsked.

"And I'm usually so good at reading people." 

"Yes Mr Brittas." He smiled at her.

"Gordon." He said.

"Mr Brittas." She replied firmly. 

"Fair enough." He sat in silence for a moment then asked, "Are you staying for long?"

"No, I need to get back to Michael and the business. And Barney needs to go back to school."

"It was nice to see you." He said, with the hint of a catch in his voice.

"It was nice to see you too Mr Brittas." Laura said. She smiled at him. "And it's nice to know so little has changed." There was a crash from the corner of the room, and Laura looked up to see Mrs Brittas, wine bottle in hand, landing not entirely accidently in the lap of one of the male guests.

"I had better… " Mr Brittas said, waving his hand in the general direction of his wife.

"Of course. See you soon." As he left she watched his retreating back, then glanced around at the wider room. They all seemed, content, in their own ways, at least at this moment. And Laura found she was content as well. She had seen two of her friends get married, she had had a nostalgic journey back into her own past, and, for once, everyone had come out of it mostly unscathed. Some people had even gained some bedding plants. It was, probably, what counted as a good day in Whitbury. 

  


Laura smiled, holding out her arms when Barney finally crawled out from underneath the table. He ran to her and climbed into her lap, his mouth smeared with tomato sauce. In eight hours or so the two of them would be on a plane back across the Atlantic, going home. It was almost certainly for the best. 

  


Gordon Brittas' world was an interesting place to visit. But she wouldn't want to live there anymore.


End file.
